Extinction of the Night Furies
by Eidorian999
Summary: The Night Furies were once as numerous as any other dragon species... This tale describes what happened to make them all but extinct, with Toothless as the final remnant of their once proud race. ToothlessXOC
1. Chapter 1

**To anyone who reads my other fanfics: I would be working on them, but the files for them are on my windows computer, which my older brother has practically commandeered over the holidays. So, as much as I hate to say it, I'm not able to work on them for a while.**

**This fic was started because I watched How to Train your Dragon, and absolutely loved it.**

**One thing about it struck me, as I'm sure it has everyone else: Toothless was the only Night Fury in the entire movie.**

**Sure, it adds a bit of mystery to him, but something that got me was that there simply HAD to be than just him at one point.**

**So, I came up with this fanfic. I'm pretty sure it could be improved upon, so if you could, please review, and tell me any errors you see. And I mean with just about everything, pace, any info dumping occurring, anything you can see that could be improved. Consider this chapter to be a teaser.  
**

* * *

He looked on as the two dragons fought, each seeking to end the other's lfe.

He was only young, reaching the beginning of his adolescence, barely twenty-one full turnings of the seasons, and yet this was almost all he knew. Despite his youthfulness, he showed extreme promise, and his parents and elders had been teaching him everything they knew. He was faster than any had been at his age, he could breathe fire just as explosive as any older dragon could, he was the pride of the Furies.

This was what had almost gotten killed several times.

He cowered as the larger of the two dragons he was watching flailed it's clubbed tail around desperately trying to hit him. He'd seen a Fury struck by that kind of tail before, and it hadn't been pretty.

He didn't know what kind the other dragon was, had never been told. What he knew was that they were trying to kill him, and his fellow Furies were willing to sacrifice themselves to prevent that from happening.

He spotted a chance to end the conflict before him when the large, serpent-like dragon fighting his eldest brother reared it's head. Without hesitating, he quickly diverted a portion of the highly flammable gases his second stomach produced to his mouth, igniting it with a sudden rasp of his tongue across the top of his mouth, hurling it straight into the enemy dragons mouth before it could even think about launching it's own fireball.

The very first thing he'd been taught about fighting other dragons: No dragon was fireproof on the inside, and could easily be killed if a full force fireball was rammed down its throat when readying it's own fireball.

He watched impassively as, while his brother tried to recover from his near-death experience, the dragon died, burning from the inside out.

"Thanks Nightbolt," the larger Fury gasped. "He nearly had me there…"

"Which makes it easier for me," came a deeper voice. And huge clubbed tail came swinging down from the air, crushing his last family member.

_

* * *

Thirty full turnings of the four seasons later._

He pulled himself out of his ruminations. He didn't need to be reliving that memory. The only good thing about that day had been meeting Ebonyte.

Nightbolt let out a breath as he flew over the nest, wincing as he saw the numerous bodies littered here and there over the mountainside.

Quite a few different species had lost members of their own over the last few Turnings, so it wasn't merely Furies he saw down below, but Nadders, Gronckles, Nightmares, Terrors, and Zipplebacks. As well as the species almost solely responsible for their deaths.

'Curse those Grounders,' Nightbolt thought savagely as he saw smashed eggshells and torn bodies of young dragons, barely half a Turning old in their eggs. 'I can't believe that they'd stoop this low… The other species have nothing to do with the war, and they're killed anyway.' He shook his head, lost in his own grim thoughts, until a voice jerked him out of his reverie.

"Hey Nightbolt, stop thinking so hard," it called out playfully. "You'll do yourself an injury, thinking like that. Or should I say thinking at all?" He snorted before flaring his wings and flapping vigorously, bringing himself to a sudden and almost complete stop, hovering in the air. In only moments, his fellow Fury swept past, quickly performing a half corkscrew combined with a half loop, in order to face him.

She was the only other of all the furies confident and skilled enough to perform such a manoeuvre so quickly, aside from himself, and for that alone, if nothing else, she had his respect.

Although she had it for more than simply her flying ability. Ebonyte was far and away his oldest and closest friend. Most Furies, especially those few around his age, were intimidated by his flying ability, and his prowess at fighting Grounders. Ebonyte was intimidated by neither of these things, despite being a lot less skilled at fighting. Besides, she could dish out insults that would distract just about any opponent. It was unusual for someone to not be very distracted when they were being called a toothless, clawless, scrap-winged, cowardly son-of-a-newt.

Nightbolt had fallen for it so many times he'd lost count. He'd gotten better at ignoring her lately, but he still had a while to go before he had complete immunity.

He growled playfully at her, knowing that she'd be annoyed at having to stop to be able to talk with him.

"Can it, you!" she growled back. "I hate it when you do this… Can't you at least glide?"

He flared the 'points' at the back of his head (A draconic equivalent of raising one's eyebrow) before replying, "Just because I can, doesn't mean I will. I might like simply staying in one spot."

"In other words, you just want to annoy me," she snapped.

Nightbolt flared his headpoints again. She was clearly a bit peeved about something. Past experience had taught him to ask what it was, or she'd start accusing him of being an uncaring, insensitive jerk. In much more floral and descriptive language.

"Do you mind telling me what's wrong, Ebony?" he questioned, hoping to Thor that she wasn't going to simply blow up at him. He still had nightmares about the last time that had happened.

She sighed. If had been anyone else, she would have vehemently denied that there was anything wrong. But this was Nightbolt. He'd know that something was up, no matter how convincingly she lied.

So, she motioned with her tail for him to follow, gliding over to one of the many rocky pillars that surrounded the chosen home of Green Death. It's top was quite broad and flat, easily able to hold both Furies.

Nightbolt landed facing her. He sat back on his haunches, waiting for her to speak.

His eyes drifted briefly over the volcano behind her.

Somewhere deep inside that thing, in it's cavernous magma chamber, Green Death was hibernating. There were barely ten Turnings left before it awoke once more.

He'd never seen Green Death. The last time it was awake was roughly five hundred Turnings ago. He was yet to reach his fifty-fifth Hatchday. But he'd heard all about Green Death. Every dragon had. Once awake, it'd remain so for at least two hundred and fifty Turnings.

He jerked his eyes away from the imposing sight, as Ebony began saying, "I've just been feeling really down lately… My cousin, Danora, she- she was killed yesterday in a raid..."

Nightbolt reared back slightly. He hadn't heard a thing about that.

Hesitantly, he padded forward, nuzzling Ebonyte's head in an attempt to make her feel better. She half-heartedly tried to push him away, and then gave in, leaning into the friendly display of affection.

"I'm ok," she muttered. "It's just… She was my last living relative… I've got no one left now, apart from you and the others."

He stepped back and grinned at her, saying, "Yeah, you've definitely still got me. You're gonna have to put up with me for quite some time."

She grinned back weakly.

"I don't mind all that much," she admitted. "It's better than being completely alone."

Nightbolt cocked his head suddenly. He was far from being the most sensitive of hearing out of any dragon, but he could tell when a there was a flying dragon within a few hundred metres, particularly when the wind was quiet. Evidently, Ebonyte had heard it too, as her head was cocked in exactly the same position.

"Talk," he mouthed at her.

She nodded, and began spouting nonsense about the Grounders, using a fairly significant portion of her insulting vocabulary to describe them.

He tuned out what she was saying, and concentrated on their surroundings. Someone was nearby, and they needed to be sure exactly where they were. If he listened carefully enough, he should be able to make out the sounds of them breathing, flapping their wings, or even their claws scraping ever so slightly against the rocky outcrops around them.

Wind… Faint gull cries… The crashing waves against rock… There! A brief scraping sound, followed by a quick flapping of the wings.

'Hm, they must have slipped or something,' Nightbolt thought.

He looked at Ebonyte, indicating his head ever so slightly to his right. She nodded, continuing to babble, insulting Grounders in just about every way possible.

This was hardly the first time something along the lines of an ambush had happened to a Fury, and a system had been worked out long ago. One dragon would locate where the assumed enemy was, then indicate their general direction.

Flushing them out was the next step, simplicity in itself. The locator dragon would wink on eyelid three times, and on the third wink, both dragons would attack with fireballs.

Sometimes, it wasn't an enemy, so instead of attacking the actually spot, they would shoot in his near vicinity, to flush whoever it was out, and see whether or not it was an enemy.

Making sure that Ebonyte was looking straight at his eyes, Nightbolt started winking his left eye.

One. Two. Three.

The two of them turned in the direction he had indicated, and hurled rather large fireballs to either side of a large, rather unsteady looking, pillar…

Only to regret their actions as an innocent Nadder, who had only been holding onto the pillar so he could eat a recently caught fish, nearly got fried by the two incendiary projectiles.

* * *

"Again," Ebonyte said. "We're really, really sorry we nearly hit you."

"I should hope so!" the Nadder, whose name was Spinewhip, replied. "I mean, don't get me wrong, I don't blame you for being suspicious, but you should have seen me fishing in the first place!"

Nightbolt winced. It was true; a dark blue Nadder should have been clearly visible to them, especially around the nest. That place never seemed to have any colour around it.

"Just make sure you keep a closer eye on your surroundings! Especially you, Nightbolt! I've heard tell about how the Grounders want you dead more than any other dragon! Doesn't matter if the Nest was been made neutral territory, they'll try to kill you regardless!"

"I know," Nightbolt muttered in reply. "But can you blame me? I haven't been allowed to leave the den for weeks now. They only let me leave today because Ebonyte had recovered from her wing injury, and could fly along with me."

"Ah, so that's it. I suppose that makes sense. One of you, regardless of how good you are, could be taken by a relatively small number of those Grounders, but I have to admit that the prospect of facing the both of you at once is rather intimidating. I've heard about how you fight, Ebonyte," Spinewhip said, arching his tail dramatically. (Nadder equivalent of frowning)

"Well, how about you just fly in the area near the den, hm?" Spinewhip suggested. "Even if it's not far from it, which you'd probably prefer, it's still better than being cooped up, and infinitely better than being killed!"

Nightbolt growled slightly, but he had to admit, Spine had a point. And it wasn't as if he'd be allowed out for a while anyway, after this little debacle.

* * *

**Nightbolt is Toothless, just so you know. And I do not plan for Ebonyte to be his love interest, merely his best-friend-that-he-happens-to-get-along-with-really-well-and-knows-practically-everything-about. If asked for, I might be willing to change that. But ONLY if asked for, and by a decent number of people.  
**

**In this fanfic, dragons are nigh on immortal, which is the main reason why there are so damn many in the movie. They don't really suffer from old age, so they can just keep on coming.**

**This occurs before the dragon-viking war.**

**The 'Grounders' are a species of dragon in the DS game of How to Train Your Dragon. I decided to take them into the movieverse and turn them into the villains. Why are they at war with the Furies? Can't tell just yet.**

**Dragon species in this are basically called the same as they are by the vikings, simply with one of the words removed. Did anyone else notice that? All the dragon species had two words that comprised their names. So yeah, Deadly Nadders become Nadders, Monstrous Nightmares will simply be Nightmares, so on and so forth. It's even the same with the Grounders! In the game they're called Grapple Grounders!**

**Anyway, I'm sure you're sick of me talking/writing, so I'll finish up here.**

**-Eidorian999  
**


	2. Chapter 2

**Whew, it's been a while since this was updated. Terribly sorry. I don't really have a reason, so I'll simply have to hope that this serves to appease.**

* * *

Nightbolt was certainly not a happy dragon. He'd been confined to the nest for weeks now, had been let out, and then promptly confined once more. To any dragon, it would be infuriating, as they all had a deep-seated instinctive need to fly and feel free. Furies had it even worse. Their incredible speed came with a price: to use it!  
He growled lowly as he watched several of the newest hatchlings trying their wings at flying. A few of them had potential. The rest of them were more than likely to remain of average skill, for a Fury.  
He smirked. It was their chief advantage over the Grounders. The aerial prowess of a Grounder was limited. The only species that was, on the whole, even worse, was the Gronckle.

The varying flight and fire capabilities between the species was actually quite fascinating, to Nightbolt's mind. Nadders were highly manoeuvrable, be they on ground or in air. They also breathed the hottest flame of all the dragons. Gronckles were slow and sure, and they didn't so much breathe fire, as they devoured rocks, set them on fire within their stomachs, and then spat the flaming boulders at you at very high speeds. The lack of manoeuvrability was to ensure good aim when they fired. Nightmares were fast in the air, as well as stealthy, and were highly agile on the ground. Not only did they set themselves on fire, the fire they breathed was almost lava-like, a sort of spout of fiery doom. To anything that wasn't a dragon, that was.

Zipplebacks were an interesting race. They tended to keep to themselves. He had never seen very many of them, and so couldn't make as accurate judgement on their flying capabilities, but they seemed to employ stealth and surety for their flight. They would try to sneak up on an opponent, before surrounding him with their noxious fumes and trying to blast the entire area to Valhalla and back down again. Then there were the Grounders. They relied more on streams of straight shooting fire, similar to a Nadder's incinerating breath. They could also employ fireballs, which were somewhat similar to a Gronckle's heavy firepower. They were slow and unwieldy in the air, although they were less so on the ground. However, their long clubbed tails gave them an advantage in close quarters aerial combat...

Finally, his species, the Furies. Fast, stealthy, and agile. They breathed fire like no other, fireballs of intense heat (Though not as hot as the Nadder or the Grounder) which would explode on contact. No-one was quite sure how they managed to do this. One thing all Furies prided themselves on was their aim. They rarely, if ever, missed what they were aiming for. Combined with their unique fire, this gave them rather impressive distance combat strength.

* * *

Nightbolt watched, interested, as the young hatchlings eventually moved to the inevitable stage of showing off, and proving they were better than their peers.  
He snorted.

"Ease up Nightbolt," came Ebonyte's voice from overhead. "Give 'em a couple of years, they'll grow out of it."

"If they make it that far," he replied, cynicism staining his voice. "You know they probably won't if they're not careful."

"Yeah, but that's what Furies like us are for, silly!" she said happily, diving past his perch, heading straight at the ocean before pulling up with barely a metre between her and the light water. Nightbolt flicked his head-points, mildly impressed. He'd tried going that low once before, and ended up with soaked wings for his trouble. Not that it really mattered, but it was a mark of skill, going as low as possible without getting wet. It showed a near-perfect sense of timing, as well as being a handy manoeuvre to know when trying to get a Grounder off your tail.

"I suppose you have a point," he admitted grudgingly in reply. "Although it makes us sound like last resorts..."  
Ebonyte landed on a rock pillar near his.

"Come on, you know that's not true! We're front-liners! If there's an emergency, we're sent straight in!" They watched as the hatchlings twisted through the air, identifying every trick they pulled (Or attempted to) and commenting on their performance. Nightbolt's initial evaluation proved to be slightly incorrect, as two of the fliers who had been fairly incompetent earlier, began to learn and adapt to flying.

'Certainly more determined than I believed them to be,' he thought interestedly.

"Hey, look at her," Ebonyte interrupted his musings, drawing his attention to one of the fliers with her wing. She was being chased by one of the others (He could only assume they were playing a game of some sort) until she suddenly flared her wings and tail-fins in such a way, that she virtually spun in the air, rotating around her own head, bringing her tail down upon the head of her pursuer, and then continuing the rotation until she was facing straight down at her opponent, then chasing them herself.

Nightbolt flicked his head-points, rather impressed with the quick manoeuvre. It was one he had seen before (It was another handy trick to know, especially when facing Gronckles or Nightmares. The Gronckles were to slow and air heavy to recover from the sudden blow, while Nightmares had a weakness to sudden blows to the head. It didn't work on Nadders, Zipplebacks or Grounders though. Nadders, because their heads tended to sport crests of sharp spikes, Zipplebacks because you couldn't actually hit either head unless you were a Zippleback yourself, and Grounders because they had developed their own counter to it, which would usually (Unfortunately) succeed, because they swung their own (Rather long) tails, and whack the attacking dragon out of the sky.

But the most impressive thing was that this hatchling had been able to pull it off. True, it wasn't all that advanced a trick, but it usually put such a spin on an inexperienced user that they would be unable to orient themselves correctly. But this hatchling hadn't had any problems at all, as far as he could see...

"How do you think she did that?" He asked Ebony.  
She shrugged. "I've got no idea. First time I did that, I threw up. I can't imagine how she even learnt it, let alone did it properly." He flicked his head-points once again.

'I've got to stop doing that,' Nightbolt thought irritably. "Honestly. If I keep doing that, my head-points will start flicking all the time!'

"Don't suppose you want to ask her?" Ebony asked innocently. He glanced at her before huffing.  
"Not right now," he replied. "If I see her again, I'll ask, but at the moment, she's busy learning to fly without crashing." His statement was emphasised unintentionally by one of the hatchlings not banking hard enough, and running into a solid rock pillar. He winced, remembering the long gone times when he'd done that every now and again. He could still feel his bones screaming in protest...

Ebonyte on the other hand, simply laughed. "Well, I suppose that's fair enough," she agreed, still giggling as the now very punch-drunk dragon struggled to find somewhere more stable to land and recover.  
She turned to look at him, a glint of an idea lurking in her eyes. "What say we show them what _real_ flying looks like?" she asked challengingly. Nightbolt simply bared his teeth ever so slightly in reply.

* * *

In an instant, both dragons had _stretched_ their wings wide open behind their backs, crouching down, and then-

Nightbolt _pushed_ with his wings as though trying to fight a Grounder off with his extra limbs alone, clenching and pushing down with his clawed legs at the same time.  
This was always one of the more difficult ways to fly. Dragon wings were more designed to catch the air, and amplify the wind to such an extent that flying was quite easy. But _forcing_ the flight was another matter. It wasn't something their bodies were meant to do. Ascending into the air was often done with the legs as much as with the wings, as most dragons would push themselves forward, into the open air, flapping their wings to catch even slight drafts and rise up.

Going straight up involved heavy pushing and pulling of the wing muscles. More often than not, this could cripple an inexperienced dragon. But Nightbolt and Ebonyte had seen the benefit of such flight at a young age, and had trained themselves to it, _forcing_ their bodies and wings to learn the new movements. The result was this much faster, far more aggressive style of flying. It was mostly responsible for their reputations as extraordinary fliers.

Rising vertically at speeds exceeding that of the rate of ascension of most modern airplanes, the two drew attention to themselves from the young hatchlings instantly, earning amazed gasps and dropped jaws as they pulled themselves into the sky.  
They couldn't see the hatchlings, nor hear them, due to the speeds they were rising at, but they didn't need to, to know that they were probably being watched by most of the Furies outside of their caves.

Reaching a height of over six hundred metres in little more than a minute, the two ceased their flapping, circling briefly, before pointing snout down, folding their wings, and plunging quicker than most non-flying creatures could see.

Nightbolt loved the rush. He wouldn't call himself a dare devil, but he truly did love. He had no idea how anything could possibly stand being ground-bound. If he ever lost the ability to fly, he didn't know what he would do with himself. Feeling the wind rip at him, try to slow him down, feel himself slice through it as though it didn't exist, knowing Ebonyte, his only genuine friend, was feeling this with him?

He honestly didn't know if it was possible to describe it. He didn't think so, though.

As the two plunged, they lost track of the rest of the world, focusing only the vast ocean rushing to meet them, glancing out of the corner of their eyes, to make sure the other was still with them.

Just before they hit the water, both Furies released a flame blast that impacted upon the surface, rippling the water with respectable waves, then angled themselves slightly, folded their wings, and plunged straight into the water.

The blasts had one purpose only. To utterly destroy the surface tension of the water, allowing them to enter it without breaking every bone in their body. The fact that their bodies were highly streamlined only aided this process.  
Using their sheer momentum, the two Furies quickly plunged down through the icy water, before sharply angling themselves back up and bursting out of the water.  
They quickly rose into the air; only this time they were almost dancing, with one chasing the other, before being out-manoeuvred and becoming the chased. They continued like this until they were once more well above the nest.

They rested a little, circling again.  
"Well?" Ebony called out. "You ready to try and keep up?" He only grinned in response.  
"I'm ready whenever you are," he replied.

Instantly, Ebony dove, aiming in the general area of the nest. Nightbolt grinned before following.  
He knew what she was going to do. There many rock pillars surrounding their home, such as the ones they had been perched upon earlier. Dodging and weaving in and out of them was a perfect test for reflexes, and great fun besides.

The two of them dove so quickly, they had to veer slightly to avoid hitting a Fury who had just flown in. Ignoring the strident protests their passing elicited, they continued, Nightbolt pursuing Ebony, making sure he didn't fall behind, while ensuring he'd have time to react to her sudden turns.

As she made the first of them, Nightbolt couldn't help but feel a thrill as he matched her movements, pursued her through the numerous (Solid and unforgiving) pillars.

* * *

Two of the more senior Furies watched as the two prodigies finished their playing, landing on the solid ground of the nest, both of them clearly panting from their exertions.

One of them said, "Do you think they realise that was an old courtship ritual?"

The other simply looked down at the two, now prodding each other with their wingtips, and trying to avoid the others.  
"No, I don't think they do," he replied.

* * *

***shakes head* Those two... Honestly, they should have listened when they were given 'The Talk'. Then they'd realise what they just did.**

**Yeah, I decided to pair Toothless up with Ebony. So shoot me. I ended up thinking it was just too good an idea to pass up.**

**I hope I didn't bore you with all the descriptions. I tried to make them as interesting as possible. I love the idea of flying, so I put a fair bit of effort into it.**

**Feel free to review. Or not. There's not much I can do to make you, now is there?**

**-Eidorian999  
**


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